


In Sickness and In Health

by Delightful_Devin



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M, i'm having a lot of fun with these two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 22:23:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15229227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delightful_Devin/pseuds/Delightful_Devin
Summary: When she gets too sick to leave her bed, he takes it upon himself to cook for her.





	In Sickness and In Health

She hadn't gotten sick like that in a long time. It was so bad that she couldn't even leave her bed. She had a high fever and whenever she tried to stand, she felt like throwing up. The doctor had said that it would go away with rest and patience. Patience was not one of her virtues. She stood up, ignored the nausea, and left the room, determined not to let a little sickness get in her way. She didn't get very far down the hallway before he stopped her.

"What're you doing out of bed? You're supposed to be resting, remember?" he said.

"I'm hungry," she replied nonchalantly. "What, should I just lay there and starve?"

"Go lay down. I'll make you something." He spoke with all seriousness, but she couldn't help but snort at his declaration.

"You? Since when can you cook?" she asked, her tone mocking.

"Since I decided just now. Go lay down," he repeated, not angry, but firm.

"Alright, but only 'cause I'm curious of how this'll turn out. Don't burn the house down." She went back into the room, burying herself in covers and awaiting her meal. Meanwhile, he went into the kitchen, examining the ingredients they had and deciding what could be made.

"Well," he said aloud to himself, "she _is_ sick, so chicken noodle soup it is I guess." He gathered all the ingredients and tools needed. _What would Kakarott say if he saw me like this,_ he thought to himself as he stirred the boiling noodles. Then, his small lilac-haired child came running into the kitchen.

"Mmm~! Smells good! Watcha cooking, Mo--" Trunks froze when he saw that it was not his mother in the kitchen, but his father. "Dad?"

"What?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the pot.

"You're cooking?"

"Obviously."

"Since when can you cook?"

"Since today." Trunks walked up to the pot and looked inside.

"Chicken noodle soup? You eat soup?"

"It's for your mother. Here, taste this." He fed a spoonful of the soup to his son. "Well?" Trunks swallowed and licked his lips.

"Wow, it's actually not that bad! But, Mom likes pepper in her food, and lots of it." He rummaged through the cabinets and found the pepper shaker. He shook it once over the pot. "A little more." He looked at his son, then shook a little more. "Just a little more." Again, he looked at Trunks, then shook a little more. "Just a tiny bit more." He looked about ready to shove the pepper down his son's throat, but he shook it again. "Perfect! Hey, where is Mom anyway? Why isn't she cooking?"

"In bed. She's sick."

"Mom's sick?" Trunks knew his mother pretty well and he knew that even when she was sick, she would be down in her lab doing whatever it was she did down there. Nothing could stop her from working. If she couldn't even cook for herself, she must've been in pretty bad shape. "She's not gonna...ya know..."

"No, she's not. Your mother is too tough for that. She'll probably be back on her feet tomorrow, if nothing else, to spite me."

"Yeah. You're probably right."

When the soup was finished, he put it in a bowl and carried it to the bedroom. Inside, his wife was laying down surprisingly. She was reading a book, not out of genuine interest, but boredom. When she noticed him come in with the bowl, she closed the book and looked at him with a disbelieving expression. She put the book on the nightstand beside the bed as he put the bowl in her lap. "Wow, you actually did it. Vegeta, Prince of Saiyans, made soup for his wife."

"Don't say it like that!" She blew it a little and gave it a try.

"It's actually good!"

"Is that so surprising?"  
  
"Well, yeah! Honestly, I was expecting something like poison! I didn't know you could cook so well, dear!"

"It's just following directions."  
  
"Which you don't do very well." He scoffed at her. "Am I wrong?" No, she wasn't. She never was. "But seriously, Vegeta, thanks. I really appreciate this."

"It's just soup," he said as he left the room.

***

And that was how it was for the next three days. She would somehow stay in bed all day and he would cook for her. He made her soup for lunch, but he had also learned to make pancakes and pasta. He got a lot of help from Trunks, who apparently knew more about cooking than he did, despite being so young. He had become quite a good cook, despite himself.

Finally, on the fourth day, she woke up in the morning feeling better than ever! Her strange sickness had finally passed and she was ready to return to work. Being confined to her bed for three days did wonders for her inspiration and she was eager to try out new ideas.

He, too, was glad that she was finally better; it meant that he wouldn't have to cook for her anymore and he could return to training. He had three days of lost time to make up for after all. He had just entered the gravity chamber, all ready to start, when he heard her voice call him from downstairs in her lab. He groaned and went down to see what she needed.

"What now? You're not sick again already, are you?" he asked with an annoyed tone.

"No, no, I just want you to make lunch for me," she answered casually.

"Excuse me? You've gotta be kidding."

"Nope, I'm completely serious! Now that I know that you can cook, I can stay down here longer. Cooking takes up a lot of my time you know."

"No. Way. You're not sick anymore; you can make your own food now. I have training to do." He turned his back to her, but before he could leave, she threw her arms around him from behind. "What're you doing?!"

"Please?"

"No! Let me go!"

"Pretty please? Pretty pretty please? Pleeeeaase?"

"Alright, fine! Just let go already!" She smiled triumphantly as she let him go. "You're worse than Trunks!"

"Thanks, honey!" She kissed his cheek. "I owe you one!"

"You owe me more than one for this!" he muttered as he trudged back upstairs. "Trunks, to the kitchen, now!"


End file.
